"Is there something wrong?"
"Huh?" Cross turned his head to address the question. Charon was a few steps down another side avenue, and it wasn't until the merc replanted himself in reality that he realized he'd been going the wrong way. Cross rubbed at the back of his head. "Ya don't think she'd…"
"I do," the ferryman cut in bluntly.
The merc flogged him with a glare, but then seemed to reassure himself. He shook his head and waved a hand as he diverted himself down the right path. "She ain't that stupid."
"She isn't," Charon agreed, his head slowly tracking his employer as he walked past. He folded his arms and remained rooted in his spot. "Shall we return?"
The merc shrugged his hands deep into his pockets. "No."
He managed to walk twenty steps until he came to a halt, and Charon only gave an amused expression as the ghoul came marching back.
"Forgot somethin'," he muttered under his breath as he crossed back by.
The safehouse was empty.
"Goddamnit!" Cross snarled after searching their room. He braced against the railing of the second story, his aggravation palpable enough to feel. He kicked at a trashcan, launching it like a missile across the concourse. He thrust an accusatory finger down at his stoic companion. "You fuckin' knew this shit would happen!"
"I did," Charon agreed, completely calm amidst the situation.
"I'm goin' to break her fuckin' legs!" he growled to himself as he stomped down the stairs. "I fuckin' told Can-"
"Do you believe he could have honestly stopped her? We are lucky he was smart enough to accompany her. At least she is not wandering alone."
"Fuck!" Cross brought down another piece of his wrath on an innocent side table. Bits of ammo and weapon mods littered the floor. "Where the fuck would she go?!"
Charon shrugged. "She is perhaps scavenging some nearby buildings. Shall I go in search while you meet with No-Nose? That information could be important."
The merc irately rubbed his hands down his face. "I knew I should've left ya here, but damn, I didn't think she'd bail that fast."
"It is a new city, and she is not completely aware of its dangers. She has always been like this."
"Then why the fuck didn't you tell me that 'fore we left?!" he snarled.
"Because you would never be inclined to leave her from your sight," Charon said pointedly. "Evelyn does not take well to being…caged."
Cross glowered. "Fuck's that supposed to mean?"
"You will learn," Charon responded vaguely. He then made way for the entrance. "They will not have journeyed too far."
Can promptly spun around on his heel, taking ahold of her elbow. "This ain't a good idea."
"Oh my God, will you stop it?!" Evelyn seethed, stepping forward in his place. "Quit being so dramatic! We'll be in and out. They won't even know we've left!"
The young mercenary glanced back to the outer walls of Diamond City's defenses, a stream of smoke rising from Takahashi's Power Noodlesstand. "You know Cross-"
She nabbed the sleeve of his jacket and began towing him along. "He's busy. Come on!"
They stepped amongst the fray of the afternoon wave of residents and traders. Evelyn slowly weaved through the throng, hoping no one recognized her from the other day. Fortunately, no one spared her a second glance, and her paranoia was put on standby. Can was close at her heel, keeping a swivel on the passerby's like any noteworthy mercenary escort would. A blur of the past made her heart pound; he reminded her a lot of Campbell, and she briefly wondered how he had died. More than likely from his own stupidity, but it was still a sobering thought all the same. The flickering neon light of Valentine Detective Agency gave a faint contrast against the sharp ray of midday. Her palm settled on the handle, and she took a breath before twisting it open.
It was locked.
She frowned, waggling the knob a few more times before a voice made their heads turn.
"Looking for Nick?" A cheery young woman, dressed in the unusual garb of a post-apocalyptic wasteland city-goer, was standing to the side with an armful of manila folders. "He's out at the moment, working a case. Did you need something? I can let you in and take the details." She inelegantly held up her mountain of paperwork. "Once I sort these out really quick."
"I…I was looking for someone. I thought maybe she passed by here," Evelyn said cautiously, hoping the unease straining her voice wasn't enough to deter this young woman's help.
"Well that's what we do best. Find those that have gone missing," she lightly laughed, and then motioned to squeeze past them for access to inside. "Here, why don't we come inside and sit down…"
Can discreetly herded Evelyn back into the alleyway while the secretary fumbled with her keys.
"I don't think he's told you, but Cross used to be a damn good bounty hunter," Can said seriously. "I heard stories of him when I was a kid! It's why I joined his crew."
Evelyn gave him a small smile. "Yeah, I know…"
"Please." Ellie propped the door open with her foot. "Come on in and take a seat."
Their map of possible Evelyn scrounging whereabouts was getting ticked off one by one.
"Hmm," Charon noted after peering inside an abandoned supply warehouse. Empty. He looked across the street at the merc stepping inside a skeleton of a Red Rocket truck stop, but he too came up empty-handed. The ferryman could hear him grumbling under his breath the entirety of their search.
Did I say somethin'? Is she mad at me? I ain't givin' her so much as a fuckin' finger.
Charon gazed up to the clear sky as Cross stomped over to him, something folded in his back pocket.
"She ain't here," he groused.
The larger ghoul tilted his head to the side to read the lettering on the magazine Cross had found inside the gas station. Live & Love- Beware the Man Handler. He cocked a brow at his reading selection, and the merc scowled as he relocated it inside the obscurity of his bomber jacket.
"Goin' to need somethin' to read after I lock her in that fuckin' room," he growled defensively.
Charon snorted, and pointed a finger at the looming rise of Diamond City in the near distance. "She may be there. It will not hurt to look."
Cross flexed his hands as he hesitated in following his footsteps. "…ya know I killed Darcy, right?"
Charon stopped. He turned his head to look back at the merc's troubled expression. "I do."
"I…I know for a fact she's dead. I damn made sure of it," he said thickly, stabbing a finger at the ground as though her grave was right beneath their feet. "She couldn't have seen her. I know she swears she did, but she couldn't have."
Charon did not understand where this sudden swell of emotion was stemming from. He knew of Darcy's relation to Evelyn, but if she was unbothered by the murder of her mother at the merc's hands, then he felt no resentment for it, either.
"Did you love her?" he questioned genuinely. It would be the only explanation for his strong attachment to this ghost from his past.
"No, I didn't, she wasn't that sort of woman to me." He wiped a hand across his mouth. "…we had a kiss. That was it. She…she asked for it, at the end. I couldn't tell her no."
"Does Evelyn know this?"
The merc looked deeply ashamed, and he couldn't meet the eyes of his most trusted friend. "No…I can't bring myself to tell her. I honestly don't know what she would think." He slapped his hands at his sides, his voice breaking. "I'm so afraid she'll fuckin' leave me."
Charon exhaled slowly. "She will leave you for lying to her, that much I do know, but she will not leave for the truth, no matter how difficult it is. She has already proven that." He indicated with his chin at the merc's right hand. "She wears your ring on her finger."
"And what if she doesn't?" he trembled. "What if she thinks it's one big fuckin' mistake?"
Charon did not have an easy answer, but it was an honest one. "Then that is her choice…something you have to learn to live with."
The merc gasped, and turned to the side to hide away the pain on his face behind his hands. "God. We need to find her. I need to tell her-"
"You are being dramatic," Charon said plainly. His cold approach made the merc snap a glare at him. Good. He did not wish for the ghoul to spiral back into his depressed, emotional state based on an assumption. "I advise you inform her of the truth."
The ferryman then continued in his march forward.
"So, just to recap what you've told me." Ellie Perkins chewed on the nub of her pencil, poring over the notes she had jotted down. "Woman, mid to late thirties, Caucasian, very blonde hair, goes by the name of one Darcy Lackins…" She furrowed her brows, and then wheeled her chair from behind her desk to a stack of papers sitting atop a crinkled cardboard box. "Hmm. I wasn't here at the time, but-" She licked her finger and quickly rifled through the first few sheets. "-ah-ha! I thought the name sounded familiar. I think you're in luck!"
Evelyn could barely contain the beating lump of her heart in her throat when she rolled back over.
"Oh, hang on." Ellie tightened her lips in rapt concentration, quickly darting her eyes from the file to the woman seated before her. "Are you…Evelyn?"
"Y-yes," she said quietly. She had grown afraid, so very afraid. It had to have been her. How was she still alive?
Unless…Cross had lied to her, but he couldn't lie over something like that. He knew what this meant to her…he wouldn't. He didn't dare.
…would he?
If he had kept some other secret under the pretense of 'keeping her safe'…she glanced down at the silver band glinting under the dim light. For a brief second, she fought the urge to rip it off.
"So she was here?" Evelyn reaffirmed, leaning forward in her chair. "Darcy was here?!"
"She sure was." Ellie nodded enthusiastically, handing the paperwork over for her to visually confirm. She waited a few minutes while Evelyn feverishly scanned the detective's written notes on the subject of…herself. "Filed a case to find you, looks like. Actually, that might be where Nick is now."
"Where, where did she go? Is she in town?" Evelyn slapped the file to her lap. "Does she live here?"
"Sorry, I'm sure she doesn't. I know everyone in this town, and she sounds like a hard woman to miss." Ellie raised her hands with an apologetic tone. "If you want, you can wait to talk to Nick. I'm sure he'll be happy to tell you everything he knows."
"I don't have that kind of time. Where can I find him?"
"Goodneighbor." Ellie glanced between the two of them. "That's where he said he'd be."
The ghouls made their rounds through the 'Great Green Jewel' of the Commonwealth, shit on their luck and drawing short on their patience. Cross exited the Dugout Inn, his hands thrusted in his jacket pockets lest he throw a swing at someone for side eying his abnormally luminous skin. His nerves were on edge and his gut was twisting with a foreboding unease. So many things can go wrong in this city…it was easy to disappear into. Charon reconvened from the Colonial Taphouse; no one had seen or heard mention of their wandering smoothskin lover.
"She must have gone to Goodneighbor," Cross suggested with an utmost stern tone. It made the ferryman feel as though they were discussing a case. If the merc was growing this serious over her little tour of the city, then Evelyn was in for one hell of an earful when she was finally found. "Can would've told her where we went. It should've been the first place we looked."
Charon gave a nod, and turned on his heel to leave the city. When there was no anticipated sound of Cross's heavy footfalls beside him, he turned his head. The merc was just standing in his place, staring across the way. Charon attempted to search for what he was looking at, but he spied nothing out of the ordinary.
"…she wouldn't have," he heard the glowing ghoul mutter, but then he was paces ahead, covering the ground quickly with his long stride until they came to a back alleyway. Before Charon could question his motives, the merc entered the synth's detective firm.
"Oh my goodness!" a voice cried from inside.
Cross held up his hands slowly while Charon stepped in from behind. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle ya." He roved his gaze around the room. "Valentine around?"
"No-no." Ellie smoothed her skirt with her hands. "He's currently working a case. Did you…did you need to file a report?"
"Did a woman happen to come in here?" He held up a hand to his shoulder. "Brown hair, biggest blue eyes you probably ever seen. She's got huge-uh-" He dropped his palms that were cupped in front of his chest. "Seen her?"
"Evelyn."
"Thank Christ," Cross muttered. "How long ago? She ask for anythin'?"
"Um, I'm sorry, but…" Ellie nervously looked between them. "I can't discuss another client's business."
"She's my wife." The merc held up his right hand. "She was wearin' a weddin' band like mine, yeah?"
Perkins gave a slow nod, her surprise apparent for the whole room to read.
"Did she…" Cross faltered, and then blew out a rumbling sigh. "Did she mention the name Darcy Lackins?"
"Yeah, she did." Ellie tapped the butt end of her eraser against a folder, visibly debating something. She then picked up another file at her elbow, and handed it over for the merc to review. "I don't normally do this…but since she's your, wife," she said the title with a slight blush, "I think you should read this. Darcy opened a case with Nick a couple days ago…it seemed to upset her. I wasn't really sure what to say."
Cross nearly dropped the file, his scrupulous reading of Nick's report on Evelyn coming to a halt. He looked back over at the woman, disbelieving what he had just heard.
"…fuck you just say?" he rasped lowly. "Darcy…was here?"
A strong grip cupped his arm from behind. Be calm.
"I wasn't around when she came in, but she was," Ellie stated with all the dignified response of a good secretary. "Nick went to Goodneighbor straight after, I think he mentioned something about the Memory Den? He was kind of muttering to himself. He does that sometimes."
"Where's Darcy now?" Cross asked thickly. The sudden rise of emotion in his voice startled her, but he couldn't help it. A million thoughts were racing through his mind- what was Evelyn even thinking?
"I don't know. That's what Evelyn asked, too. I told her to talk to Nick, and they left to find him."
Cross snapped the file shut, and waved it at her as he backed up towards the door. "Thanks. I have to borrow this. I'll give it back to Nick when I see him." He ignored her objections as he strode out; thankfully, she didn't follow. The merc stumbled a few steps until Charon blocked his path with a hand on his shoulder.
"You need to breathe. You need to keep calm," Charon rasped lowly. He subtly eyed a guard observing them at the far end, his baseball bat held defensively across his chest.
"That ain't possible. Darcy's fuckin' dead!" Cross shoved the ghoul's hand off himself. "I felt her die. I fuckin' saw it. I held her the whole time…I…I…" He licked his lips, and his throaty rasp grew hoarse. "I fuckin' strangled her with my own goddamn hands…I buried her. She was fuckin' cold. God. That ain't her. It can't be."
"Do you believe it could be a synth?" Charon questioned, completely unfazed with the merc's confession…he had his own share of spilled blood that was unpardoned. "That scientist in Braxton you claimed to have killed was a synth. Could it not be possible? They are all tied to Evelyn. If they are looking for her, they are going to use those she knows to bring her to them…they made a synth of you."
"She's goin' to tell her. She's goin' to tell her what I did. Fuck." He had to get to her. He had to get to her first. "We need to fuckin' hurry-"
Charon stopped him a second time, an iron mountain withstanding any advancement. "If she does find her first…are you prepared for what she might say?"
No- she was going to leave him. She was going to see what everyone else saw- a monster. A stone-cold killer. A terrifying face behind a broken mask. She would look at him in a way that would break his heart; completely shatter it. There would be no going back…or moving forward. He was going to lose everything.
Her smile, her laugh, her love…their little home out west, her already little collection of books on his shelf, the amount of hair she somehow fucking got everywhere, the smell of her skin on his shirt, the way she stole his food like a little thief after she had sworn she wasn't hungry…
"Oh my God," he choked.
The way she placed her ice-cold feet on his back and cackled about it, the beautiful movement of her stride when she rode him, how she pinched his ass whenever she had a chance…
His feet began to move.
He had to confess all of his sins and pray for her blessing with a kiss on his brow. He would strip himself bare and raise his bloodied hands as a token of his faith in her. If it kept her with him…if it gave him what he truly wanted, a life with her...
Then he would surrender his own.